


A Study in Puzzles

by VioletGreen



Series: Of the heart and of the mind. [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 03:39:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5275103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletGreen/pseuds/VioletGreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock ends up in a situation completely out of his control. The only way to save the people he cares about is to solve puzzles. However his capture claims he doesn't care about them. That he is an uncaring and unfeeling machine and the only reason he is saving them is because he enjoys the game. </p><p>Sherlock later realizes how wrong his capture was...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Puzzles

**Author's Note:**

> This was in my head. I'm not sure why but I've been wanting to write something new that anyone could read. It is sent after "A Scandal in Belgravia". There is a lot of emotional ties to this and I hope you enjoy.

When Sherlock Holmes finally awoke it took him 2.4 seconds as he remembered the events prior to being forced unconscious. He recalled being in a rather large room with a loaded gun in his hand and pointing it at none other than James Moriarty. Sebastian Moran was also there and pointing a gun at his blogger’s head known as John Watson. In return John had his gun pointed at Moriarty which gave a little relief to Sherlock. Then there was Irene Alder who held a gun in each hand and pointed one at his brother’s head known as Mycroft Holmes and the other was pointed at Moriarty. Which in turn Mycroft held a gun and pointed it James. The only person who did not have a gun pointed at him was Detective Inspector Lestrade who stood behind Irene and pointed his gun at her. With all that Moriarty was the only one without a gun but he knew no one would fire until Sherlock was completely for sure and then John would more than likely be the first to fire. 

“Well, isn’t this fun,” Moriarty mused, giggling like a school boy. “There are many players on the field and not one of them without a little something to show for it. So, who do you think it will be first, Sherlock? I’m betting on Johnny boy. He seems to just be itching to pull that little old trigger on me.” 

“Sherlock,” John said, not taking his eyes off of Moriarty. “Do you have a plan?” 

Sherlock looked around the room and knew no one could be fully trusted. Someone was going to fire their gun and to be honest that was the last thing Sherlock wanted to happen. “How about this,” Sherlock said finally after a moment. “Irene leaves first then Lestrade after that, James you, then John, then Moran, and I will leave with Mycroft.” 

“No, Sherlock,” John snapped taking his eyes off of Moriarty and Moran. In one quick motion Moran lunged forward and hit the gun out of John’s hand. It went flying against the wall near Moriarty who bent down and pick it up. Moran twisted John’s arm behind his back and pulled him against him like a shield and placed the gun to John’s temple. No one moved. 

Moriarty’s smile widened as he moved closer to John. “First rule, Johnny, never take your eyes off the chained animal.” 

“Go to hell,” John spat, struggling in Moran’s hold. But, Moran was a little stronger then he was. Not to mention a little more unstable. Moran hit the butt on the gun into the side of John’s head, forcing John’s vision to blur. 

“Stop,” Sherlock demanded with a slight edge in his tone. 

Moriarty picked up on it and the criminal turned to Sherlock with a devious grin on his features. “But, he’s so much fun to play with but what pet wouldn’t be? I’m starting to understand why you keep the little guy around.” 

“He isn’t a pet,” Sherlock snapped. All eyes turned to him. Sherlock quickly got himself back under control. His voice was steadier now as he said, “We all know you want me, to see what makes me tick. Why not just let him go…let them all go and I will go with you willingly.” 

Moriarty looked as though he was giving that some thought. “That is a very tempting offer, Sherlock, really but this,” he spread his arms to gesture to what was happening around them. “This is more exciting. To think of what could happen. The possibilities, the calculation that we know would be the outcome to this. Explain it to me, Sherlock.” 

“What? You want me to explain what will happen should a gun go off?” Sherlock retorted bitterly. 

“Indeed, I do,” Moriarty said, in a sing-song manner. “Let’s hear it!” 

Sherlock hesitated for only a moment because when he looked at John and he could see something in his eyes. It wasn’t panic for himself but for the others in the room. Granted John knew he should care about Mycroft but a part of him didn’t. He was mostly concerned for Greg. The man was a good man and shouldn’t even be here. Why in the hell was he here? Sherlock could see the worry for their friend in John’s eyes but he had to continue to keep Moriarty’s focus on himself. That’s where it needed to stay. 

“Moran would fire his gun on John first then I’d turned my gun on him who would most likely use John’s body as a shield. That would mean you’d point John’s gun at me and fire. Mycroft would then fire his gun on you and out of panic Irene would fire her guns at you and Mycroft. Lestrade would try to find away to shield himself after firing his gun on Irene. Now, in a state of panic the only one I could see who would be dead for sure would be John seeing as he would take a bullet to the brain.” Sherlock’s brain was like a machine. When it was in working order the deductions, John knew, just flew out of his mouth without taking into consideration for someone else’s feelings. It was the way Sherlock was. However, now that it was out in the open Sherlock regretted speaking it because the look on John’s face spoke volumes more than Sherlock ever could. “John, I…” 

Moriarty took a step closer to Sherlock. “You truly are a machine, aren’t ya?” Moriarty mocked. 

Sherlock glared at Moriarty. He wanted to kill the man right then and there but he knew with any possible scenario John would end up dead. There was nothing at this point he could do to save his blogger. Not until Moran removed the gun from his head and that didn’t seem like it would be happening anytime soon. 

Moriarty smiled as he said, “What if I took you and your blogger?” 

“Why would you want John? He is worthless to you,” Sherlock replied lazily. 

Moriarty laughed. “Oi, you think that will work on me? Please, Sherlock, you wound me.” Moriarty stood just inches away from Sherlock. His gun was trained on Sherlock while Sherlock’s gun was still trained on Moran. Sherlock knew one way or another if Moran killed John that Sherlock was going to kill Moran. “We both know that’s not quite true. Besides I did mention I would get me a “live in one.” It wouldn’t take much to teach the old doggie some new tricks.” 

Sherlock’s grip tightened on his gun. “Leave him out of this,” Sherlock growled. He didn’t want John to be the focus of the madman’s attention. “My offer is only myself or I’ll kill you right where you stand.” 

“You’re no fun,” Moriarty frowned, pouting like a child. 

“Don’t I get a vote,” John snide, wincing at the feeling of Moran’s grip tightening on his arm.

“No,” Sherlock snapped. 

Moriarty smiled as he turned to John and said, “Tell me, Johnny-boy, what your vote would entail?” 

John looked from Moriarty to Sherlock who he could clearly see Sherlock’s expression telling him to keep his mouth shut. However, Sherlock should know better. John was nothing without Sherlock Holmes and just like the first time they met when John killed the cabbie so Sherlock could live, if it came down to that who would live and who would die, John would clearly choose death so Sherlock could live. This was a game of chance. Something Moriarty enjoyed and something John loathed but in order to win he had to place the house and nine times out of ten the house never won. “I want to go, too.” 

“John, no,” Sherlock sneered. “This isn’t up for discussion.” 

“And why not,” John spat back. “Sherlock, I’ve done nothing but protect you. Regardless what this manic thinks we are friends and I’m not about to let you go off and become another string in his web.” 

Sherlock closed his eyes as Moriarty clapped his hands together. “Oh, this is too precious,” Moriarty purred. 

John looked from Moriarty to Sherlock and saw the dread on Sherlock’s face. It should have dawned on John the ammo he’d just given to the master criminal but he was more concerned to be left behind. John’s brow furrowed as he asked, “Sherlock?” 

Sherlock opened his eyes and for a moment his version began to blur. It was an odd sensation but when he saw Moriarty’s eyes blinking rapidly he knew then something was wrong. Panic set in as he turned toward the door. “Lestrade, try to open the door.” Lestrade looked questioning at him until Sherlock barked, “Just do it.” 

Lestrade lowered his gun as he turned his attention to the door. He went for the handle but it seemed to be stuck. With his shoulder he rammed into the door to open it that way but it gave no movement to budge. He turned back to Sherlock with a worried expression on his face. “We’re locked in.” 

“You little bastard,” Irene snarled, taking a step toward Moriarty. 

“Do you honestly think I’d lock us all in here together, please,” Moriarty scoffed. 

“This wasn’t him,” Sherlock insured. 

“What makes you so sure,” Mycroft finally spoke. 

Sherlock pointed up to a vent above Moran and John. “There is a gas that is slowly making its way into this room.” 

Moriarty turned to the vent and said, “Well, I’ll be damned.” He turned back to Sherlock with a gleam in his eye. “Well, this just got more interesting.” 

Slowly one by one everyone was falling to the ground in a sound slumber. Even John and Moran fell which left Moriarty and Sherlock. They both were fighting it as best they could. 

“Who do you think it is?” Moriarty asked excitedly as he slowly slipped down the wall to the ground.

“I…I don’t know…”Sherlock replied as he moved over by John. He checked to make sure he was still breathing steadily before he too was sitting on the ground.

“They’re going to kill him, you know. For sentimental purposes,” Moriarty said sleepily. 

“Go to hell, Jim,” Sherlock hissed before he closed his eyes. 

“After you, Sherlock Holmes,” Moriarty murmured as he closed his eyes. 

The last thing Sherlock saw before closing his eyes was John. He began to lightly stroke John’s short blonde hair before thinking he would never forgive himself if something should happen to his friend. Then he closed his eyes, letting the weight of the drug pull him under into darkness. 

*****

Sherlock recalled the feeling of dread he felt over his blogger. He would do anything to protect him, Lestrade and of course his brother. However, he couldn’t think about that now. He needed to figure out who it was that drugged them. Sherlock took in his surroundings. He was in a small cement room and it seemed there was a chain around his left ankle that was anchored to the floor. Whoever the mystery guest was didn’t want him to be leaving anytime soon. Finally his eyes adjusted enough that he saw placed in the middle of the room was a table with a single computer monitor sitting on top of it. He was curious as to what this was about when the light came on and the door to his cell suddenly opened. 

It was a woman who looked to be in her late twenties with long red hair and wearing a nice blue skirt suit. She held herself confidently as she walked up behind the monitor. There was a smile on her face that almost looked genuine but Sherlock could see something darker in her eyes. This woman was not to be trifled with. “It’s good to finally meet you, Sherlock Holmes. I must admit that it has been a long time over due but now that the moment it here I feel…on what’s the word?”

“Overjoyed,” Sherlock murmured. The woman’s smile widened and Sherlock noted it seemed slightly forced. _Don’t piss her off, _Sherlock thought to himself.__

__“Rather disappointed,” the woman replied._ _

__“It seems I unintentionally do that or so I’m told,” Sherlock retorted. He wanted to get this over with and get to the reason of whom this woman was and where the others were. However, he had a pretty good idea with the monitor in the room what was about to transpire here and that made him feel uneasy._ _

__“Well, I hear you can deduce people just by looking at them,” the woman said, coming to stand next to the table so Sherlock could see her easier. “Why don’t you give it a try?”_ _

__At this point John’s voice was in his head telling him not too but the woman insisted upon it. So, as he looked her up from head to toe Sherlock began to deduce. “You’re not as you appear to be. Sure for your line of work you wear suits to keep up appearances but your hands look rough as if you’ve worked with your hands. You hate wearing heels because you keep shifting from one foot to the other but again it is all about the presents and authority. You’ve never been married and you show no interest in doing so anytime soon. The line of work you do doesn’t allow you to get emotionally involved because it would show a sign of weakness you can’t be exploited by.”_ _

__“Very good, Mr. Holmes, I’m truly impressed,” the woman murmured._ _

__“Now, why you brought us all here is the puzzle that needs solved,” Sherlock said. He wanted to know why they were here and better yet he wanted to know who this woman was._ _

__The woman’s smile faded as she moved back behind the monitor. “I’m sure you know how it feels, Mr. Holmes, to have someone’s life in the palm of your hand.” The monitor suddenly came on and Sherlock’s eyes grew wide with shock and panic. There stood on opposite sides of the room were Mycroft and Irene. They were glaring at one another and Sherlock noticed there was a single length chain hanging between them. It seemed they were cuffed together._ _

__Sherlock stood to his feet and walked toward the monitor until his chain denied him to move any further. He wasn’t for sure why she placed them in a room together but he knew this wasn’t a good thing. Then he wondered about the other four who were uncounted for. He hoped that Lestrade and John were alright and that Moran or Moriarty wouldn’t do anything to harm them. That was another fear he had. “What’s the point of this?”_ _

__“Oh, don’t tell me even the Great Sherlock Holmes hasn’t deduced that yet?” The woman said, sounding slightly disappointed. “Come on, I know you can figure this one out.”_ _

__Sherlock studied the screen and for the life of him there was nothing to go on. It was just an empty room. That was until he saw small holes in the wall near Mycroft’s foot. There were others against the far wall and more next to where Irene stood. Sherlock turned his attention toward the woman and said, “What are those holes for?”_ _

__Just as the words are spoken out of Sherlock’s mouth the room began to fill with water. Irene’s cries of panic started to ring through the speakers as she started to bang on the door for someone to come to their aid._ _

__Sherlock could only watch in horror as the water poured into the room. Mycroft looked like he was remaining calm but he could see the tension in his brothers bodies. There was only a few times in his life he recalled seeing Mycroft like that. When they were kids and Sherlock got on top of their garage saying it was a pirate ship. Mycroft warned him not to fall or their mother would ring both their necks. However, that is exactly what happened. Mycroft looked terrified that Sherlock was hurt. Even more so when their parents met them at he hospital and found out that Sherlock ended up breaking his arm. Mycroft ended up being grounded for a month but he still entertained Sherlock while he arm was in the cast. It made Sherlock feel sentiment and as soon as the feeling was there it vanished just as fast. Sherlock knew his brother was afraid even if no one else did. Finally Sherlock looked up at the woman and said, “Why are you doing this?”_ _

__The woman’s eyes narrowed on him as she hissed, “There were five pipes, a game of puzzles for the Great Sherlock Holmes to solve, and when you solved them then the victims came out of it alive. Am I correct?”_ _

__Sherlock’s eyes grew wide as he remembered that not everyone came out of that alive. He still could hear the old blind woman’s voice. How scared she was because she didn’t know what was happening. Even though he figured out the puzzle it still wasn’t enough to save her. “It was battle against a crazed madman. He wanted to keep me busy for his own amusement.”_ _

__“Did you care about any of the lives you two were gambling with, Mr. Holmes?” The woman asked suddenly._ _

__“Caring doesn’t help to save them. It is not an advantage but a display of weakness,” Sherlock retorted._ _

__The woman shook her head. “And yet you would care if your brother or Ms. Alder died?”_ _

__Sherlock looked back at the screen and the water was up around their ankles now. It was still pouring in with no signs of stopping. He looked back at her. “What do you want from me?”_ _

__“I want you to solve some puzzles. If you do they go free but if you don’t well you get to watch as their cell turns into a watery grave.”_ _

__Sherlock didn’t like the sounds of this but what choice did he have. Obviously this woman had some form of attachment to one of the victims otherwise she wouldn’t have mentioned it. That seemed as though it was the most likely of scenarios. “What are the rules for this game?”_ _

__The woman smiled again. This time there was slight eeriness to it, one that Sherlock disliked. “You will be given three puzzles and you must solve them before your friends die. Simple enough, right?”_ _

__“Quite,” Sherlock scoffed. “Let’s get on with it then.”_ _

__“Oh, very well,” the woman muttered with a little disappointment in her tone. “Detective Hercule Poirot was reviewing the information they had on the case so far. A woman named ‘Monica’ was found shot and Hercule already had a list of suspects: Rooney, Torres, David, Messi, and Ronaldo. Now, the killer is a fan of our dear detective and challenged him by leaving notes at various places in and around the building. The first note was found in the drawing room, the second was found in the art room, the third in vineyard, the fourth in an ice-cream room and the fifth in the den. All of the notes read the same thing, “The clues are where you find the notes.” Still nothing was found anywhere in the rooms. Our brilliant detective Poirot paused for a moment to think it over and then arrested the killer. Who was the killer?”_ _

__Sherlock listened carefully as he tried to ignore the sounds of bickering between Irene and Mycroft. Searching through his mind palace for the answer it suddenly dawned on him. He turned to the woman and said, “The killer is David.”_ _

__“How do you know?” the woman asked curiously._ _

__“Isn’t it obvious? The puzzle suggests that the clues are where you find the notes. It is in the room names starting with the drawing room with drawing starts with the letter D. Then the second room which is the art room that starts with the letter A. Then there was the third which is the vineyard that starts with the letter V. Followed by the forth room which is the ice-cream room that begins with the letter I. And finally there is the fifth room which is the den that starts with the letter D. Now, if you take the first letter from the beginning of each word it spells out David which makes him the killer.”_ _

__“Amazing talent you have there, Mr. Holmes,” the woman praised. “Most I tell that to will never get passed it and watch as their loved ones drown but not you. You truly live up to your name.”_ _

__“You flatter me,” Sherlock retorted sarcastically. He looked at the monitor and noticed that the water was above Mycroft’s knees. They didn’t have much time left. “What’s the next puzzle?”_ _

__The woman pulled out a piece of paper from her jacket pocket and said, “Karamachand was a well known consulting detective and is currently working on an international case where oil is illegally sold. While inspecting he comes across a note under a shelf,” she pauses and holds up the piece of paper in her hand. She read, “710 57735 34 5508 51 7718.” She looked back up at Sherlock and smiled. “Currently there are three suspects: Rooney, Bill, and Own. Karamchand breaks the code and arrested the suspect. Who was it?”_ _

__“May I see the note?” Sherlock asked, hoping she wouldn’t deny him._ _

__The woman held out her hand holding the piece of paper to Sherlock. “Be my guest.”_ _

__Sherlock took the piece of paper from her hand and immediately started to go over different number combination as to how this could possibly bring him to the suspect. But, so far Sherlock was coming up empty handed. It wasn’t making any sense to him. How could this code be the answer? Suddenly he heard a scream come from the monitor. Sherlock turned to see that the water was up to Irene’s neck and just above Mycroft chest. They were going to die if he couldn’t figure this out. Not to mention he had one more puzzle to solve. What the hell, Sherlock thought angrily as he tossed the piece of paper to the floor. He was in a moment of disarray when he looked down at the piece of paper again. This time the numbers were upside down and there Sherlock saw it. “The suspect is Bill,” he said a little too happily. He pulled his emotions back and let his face fall blank when he turned to the woman._ _

__“How do you know?” The woman inquired._ _

__Sherlock picked up the piece of paper and held it up for her to see. “It’s not about finding the right pattern of numbers but about the numbers themselves and how they are placed. When you turn the paper upside down it reads like letters. It says, ‘Bill is Boss. He sells oil.’” Sherlock crumbled up the paper and tossed in on the ground, a knowing smile on his face that he figured it out correctly. “What’s your final puzzle?”_ _

__The woman smiled at him. “I’m proud of you. Good work.”_ _

__Sherlock looked to the screen and saw that Irene started to trend water in order to keep her head above the water so she wouldn’t drown. Mycroft must have been on his tip toes but soon he too was going to be swimming. Sherlock didn’t know how much longer they could last. “Just give me that damn puzzle,” he snapped angrily._ _

__The woman frowned at him. “As you wish,” she replied, taking another piece of paper out of her jacket pocket. “This is a photograph of Vincent van Gogh’s painting the Starry Night Over the Rhone. Your skills will require for you to deduce if this is a picture of the real one or if it is fake.”_ _

__Sherlock took the photograph from her hand and began to study it. Without his phone to back up his answer he wasn’t for sure he would get it right. However, when he looked over at the monitor he knew he had too. Their heads were almost touching the ceiling. He turned his attention back to the artwork and closed his eyes. Escaping to his mind palace he was racing through each part of the painting, from the ground where the couple stood on the bank, to the building of the city and from there to the stars in the sky. Sherlock’s eyes suddenly snapped opened as he stared at the painting. Just to the left of the picture above the buildings there were two stars their instead of one. He turned to face her and said, “There is an extra star just above the buildings, here.” He pointed to the yellow dot on the picture. “It is a fake. Now, release them!”_ _

__The woman pulled out a pink cell phone from her jacket pocket and typed something out on it. Sherlock’s gaze locked onto the screen just as the water was going over their heads. A moment later the water was retreating and Sherlock let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, thankful for seeing his brother and Irene gasping for breath. They were alive because of him. If it wasn’t for his vast knowledge and quick thinking they would be dead. Sherlock felt an underline adrenaline surging through his veins. He was ready for his next puzzles. _I can do this,_ he told himself. _ _

__Suddenly the monitor went dark and Sherlock turned his attention to the woman who was staring at him. If he didn’t know any better he’d swear she was deducing him. “Round one is to you, Mr. Holmes. I hope you are ready for round two?”_ _

__“What does round two consist of?” Sherlock inquired._ _

__“It will be a little more difficult, I assure you,” the woman replied as the door opened behind her. Two large men in all back came walking into the room. One was bold while the other had short blonde hair. Neither spoke as they came to stand next to the woman. “Little John and Tiny will need to drug you in order to move you. Please do not fight them.”_ _

__Sherlock noted how ironic it was for her to give them nicknames with how well built each man was but he figured that was rather point of it. “Can you assure me that Mycroft and Irene will remain unharmed? That your word of them being released wasn’t falsified.” Sherlock questioned._ _

__The woman walked up to him and held out her hand to him. Sherlock understood immediately what she was doing and he placed his fingers to her wrist. “You have my word, Mr. Holmes, that no harm will befall your brother or Ms. Alder,” she replied humbly. Sherlock seemed satisfied enough with her answer and removed his hand from hers. She smiled and moved away from him. “With the first round over they will be knocked out of course but they will be taken to another location that they could walk away from. However, they will not be able to locate this place. I promise you that.”_ _

__Sherlock thought for a long moment before he nodded. “Alright, fine. Let’s get on with it then.”_ _

__The woman smirked at him. “I’m glad you’re so eager to continue our game.”_ _

__“More like eager to get this over with,” Sherlock scoffed. “By the way, what do I get if I win, besides my friends and myself released of course?”_ _

__“I’ll turn myself over to you willingly,” she replied without missing a beat. “I’m sure you have so many questions you want answered.”_ _

__“How are you a prize?” Sherlock asked._ _

__The woman tilted her head and said, “Trust me, Mr. Holmes, after what I have planned for the others you’re going to work even harder to make sure I’m in a pair of handcuffs with no hope of parole.”_ _

__“Well, then here is my promise to you. When I win I’ll make sure you never see the light of day ever again,” Sherlock sneered._ _

__The woman pretended to shuddered. “Oh, I do hope you get to keep that promise, my dear Holmes. But for now…” she let her voice drift off._ _

__The two henchmen walked over to Sherlock. The bold one grabbed onto to his arms while the blonde pulled a syringe from his pocket. Sherlock tried to keep from struggling as he felt a spark prick of the needle in the side of his neck. Within seconds his vision started to blur while his eyes grew heavier. He wanted to keep them open but the drug was to powerful for him to fight against. Slowly he closed his eyes and he heard the woman say, “Sleep well, Mr. Holmes.”_ _

__*****_ _

__When Sherlock awoke this time he was in a different room that looked like the lab at Barts. He wondered why she decided to duplicate the lab. Suddenly the door opened and in walked the woman from before. He stood to his feet and realized he was still chained around the ankle with the end anchored to the floor. “This is tedious,” Sherlock said, motioning toward the chain._ _

__“Not for me,” she replied. She walked over to another monitor that came on the moment she touched it. There on the screen was Lestrade and Moran, cuffed together while glaring at the other._ _

__Sherlock could see their mouths moving but this time could not hear what they were saying to one another. Whatever it was couldn’t be good. In which case a terrifying realization struck him that if Mycroft and Irene were together and Lestrade and Moran were together, it left John and Moriarty trapped together in the same room. He looked up at the woman who had a knowing smile on her face. It made Sherlock want to hurt her._ _

__“Let’s focus on one puzzle at a time, Mr. Holmes,” she said._ _

__“Alright,” Sherlock said bitterly. “What is that you want me to figure out?”_ _

__“On the counter in front of you, Mr. Holmes, is a white powder. Next to it is a syringe, a tea spoon and a lighter. I want you to inject yourself with it.”_ _

__Sherlock knew right away what it was but why she wanted him to do it was beyond him. “This is absurd,” he huffed._ _

__“It’s either this or your watch as they die,” she replied, gesturing toward the monitor._ _

__Sherlock watched in horror as the far wall began to move which prompted Lestrade and Moran to the opposite wall. “Why are you doing this?”_ _

__“If you have to ask you’re not ready to know,” the woman snapped. She took a moment to collect herself and asked calmly, “Do you want them to die?”_ _

__Sherlock looked to the syringe then to the screen. He didn’t care about watching Moran die but he was cuffed to Lestrade whom in fact he did care about. Regardless of what he said before. Sherlock picked up the spoon and poured some of the white powder onto it. He then picked up the lighter and lit it underneath the spoon until it was melted. Before picking up the syringe he looked at the screen as a feeling of dread passed through him. He flashed back to the time when he first met Lestrade. Sherlock was outside of a pub, high of course, when he heard Lestrade’s voice._ _

__“Oi, what you doing there,” Lestrade said, walking over to him. “Stop doing that.”_ _

__Sherlock was peeing on the building and looked over at him with glassy eyes. “Your wife is sleeping around,” Sherlock slurred. He zipped up and turned his body to face Lestrade._ _

__Lestrade brow furrowed as he huffed, “How do you know that?”_ _

__Sherlock took Lestrade’s left hand into his own and said, “You’re wedding band hasn’t been cleaned in five years, you look like you’ve been sleeping in your car with the way your hair and clothes look. They are wrinkled and you have a slight odor. Which indicates you haven’t been home in a least a day and a half and you’re breath smells like you had a few pines, which is keeping you from going home. So, without you there your wife feels lonely and decided to fill that void with someone else.”_ _

__That was the one and only time Lestrade ever punched him in the face. After that Lestrade found out that his wife was in fact sleeping around and offered Sherlock to help with a few cold cases if he’d lay off the drugs. Sherlock accepted happily._ _

__Now, he was being forced to feel his veins with drugs in order to save Lestrade’s life. There was a hidden irony to it, Sherlock realized but with the wall closing in he had to do something before they were crush to death. Without anymore past memories of promises that would now be broken, Sherlock rolled up his sleeve before he picked up the syringe and placed the needle into the liquid. He glanced at the screen and smiled a sad smile before placing the needle into his arm and pressing on the end. The drug hit him instantly and it was a little more the a 7% solution he was use too. “There,” he growled, placing the syringe back on the counter top. “Let them go.”_ _

__“Oh, you thought that would be it? No, Mr. Holmes, I didn’t even give you your puzzle yet.”_ _

__Sherlock watched her pick something up next to where the monitor sat and walked it over to him. “There was another case you weren’t able to solve when you were younger. Now, you have the chance to with something you were missing from before.”_ _

__It was a case that hit to close to home for Lestrade, Sherlock recalled as he opened the folder she'd placed in front of him. The case was about a young boy who drowned in his bathtub but something about the case stood out to him that was all wrong because there was no water in the boy’s lungs. Yet, he was found naked in the bathtub and faced down. Looking at all the pictures again Sherlock came across one that he hadn’t seen before. At least he thought he hadn’t seen it before. It was a picture after the fact. The boy was lying on a melt table with a white sheet over his body. However, the angle of the picture of when it was taken was when someone was standing down by the boy’s feet. As Sherlock looked closer he could see there was a tiny dot between the boy’s toes. Something like that would be overlooked in a case like this. “He was poisoned,” Sherlock said aloud._ _

__“Very good, Mr. Holmes,” she replied. “Now, do you know by whom?”_ _

__Sherlock looked back at the notes of the case not realizing until that moment what the boys name was and why Lestrade took it so hard. “Jeffery Lestrade,” Sherlock mumbled, realizing why it made sense. Lestrade never told him the boy’s last name. He looked up at the screen and saw the wall was over half way now. Lestrade didn’t look as terrified as he probably should. Maybe the DI knew that he was trying to save his life or perhaps he’s come to terms with death. Sherlock recalled a time he went to the pub with the DI and he let Lestrade talk for hours. Conversations about cases that Lestrade had in the past and Sherlock listened, fascinated by it all. There was a silent understanding, however, that Lestrade knew with having the job he did that death would always be a step behind and would greet him like an old friend. As Sherlock stared at the screen he knew that’s really what Lestrade was thinking and it hurt. Why did it hurt so much? Maybe it was that Lestrade accepted the fact he was going to die without so much as any shred of hope coming out of this alive. It made Sherlock’s heart ache that Lestrade believed this was his moment to die. No, Sherlock couldn’t allow that. He needed Lestrade to live and to tell him he was worth so much. That his life was worth so much to him and that was exactly what he was prepared to do._ _

__“Jeffery Lestrade was Lestrade’s nephew. He’s told me the story how he and his wife (who was his girlfriend at the time) were watching young Jeffery when a call came in and Lestrade had to leave. About thirty minutes later he’d gotten a call from the hospital saying that Jeffery was dead. They believed that she just left him alone in the tub and he drowned. I asked Lestrade about the case and if I could see anything from it but he only gave me small details but never anything more.”_ _

__“But, you’ve always suspected that it was something more. That perhaps Lestrade was trying to protect someone.”_ _

__Sherlock nodded. “Yes, but…” then it hit him. He stared at the screen unblinking as he said, “She blackmailed him. He knew she was doing drugs and tried to get her to stop but couldn’t. When he got the call he had to leave but she told him he’d be sorry if he did. She used to say things like that all the time so he didn’t give it a second thought. Not until he got the call. He rushed to her and she told him everything but not before telling him how she would ruin him if he told. So, he stuck with her and all his friends and family disowned him. He had no choice but to marry her.”_ _

__The woman pulled out her phone from her pocket and typed something out onto it. The wall suddenly stopped and started to retract. Sherlock smiled at the relieved expression on Lestrade’s face before the screen went black. “I’m proud of you, Mr. Holmes. That’s two for two.”_ _

__“Thanks,” Sherlock replied bitterly._ _

__“Look, there is no need to be hostile towards me. You saved them. So, now it’s onto round three.”_ _

__The same two men that Sherlock saw last time entered the room. Sherlock did not fight them when the blonde stuck a needle into his neck, forcing Sherlock to slip unconscious._ _

__*****_ _

__The next time Sherlock awoke he was surprised to find he wasn’t chained down to the floor. However, he was truly unhappy to see a pair of dark brown eyes staring back at him so intently from behind a plate of glass._ _

__“How nice of you to finally join us, Sherlock,” Moriarty mused. “Johnny boy has been awfully moody not knowing what’s been going on. I told him there wasn’t anything that he needed to worry his pretty little head about seeing as you would've turned up eventually…and ops, I was right.” Moriarty smiled down at Sherlock with a dark gleam in his eye. It made Sherlock sit up and smile to see John was sitting next to Moriarty, their hands were cuffed together just like the others._ _

__“Sherlock, please tell me you have a way to get me freed before I murder this little twat,” John spat, gesturing toward the cuffs._ _

__“Hey, what did I say about name calling, Johnny?” Moriarty warned._ _

__John glared at Moriarty but said nothing more._ _

__Sherlock wondered what must have transpired between the two of them for Moriarty to shut John down like that. It made Sherlock feel like he too wanted to strangle Moriarty. Instead he stood to his feet and began to examine the glass._ _

__“You’re wasting your time, Sherlock,” Moriarty muttered, sounding bored. “We’ve already tried looking for a way out.”_ _

__Sherlock looked from Moriarty to John who nodded to confirm the master criminal’s statement. “There must be a way.”_ _

__Suddenly the door opened from behind Sherlock and in walked the same woman again. In her hand was a suitcase. “You’ve done so well, Mr. Holmes, by freeing the others that I wanted to give you a chance to speak to your best friend and your arch-enemy in person.”_ _

__Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her. “Why?”_ _

__“So, they can hear what I have to say,” she said, placing the suitcase on the ground in front of her. She opened it up and turned it for all eyes to see. Resting inside the case was a bomb._ _

__Sherlock took a step back and looked up at the woman with fear in his eyes. However, when he spoke his voice was even. “Who was it then?”_ _

__She stood back up and tilted her head. “Whatever do you mean?”_ _

__“You spoke about the five pipes and asked if I cared about the lives of the people Moriarty put in jeopardy.” Sherlock looked back at John. His face was pale white when he realized what this was about. Even Jim kept silent which spoke more than words could. Sherlock turned his gaze back to her and said, “I told you that caring was a weakness.”_ _

__“And yet you figured out the three puzzles I gave to you before your brother and Ms. Alder drowned. You took drugs to keep Inspector Lestrade from being crushed and then figured out the burden his carried for all these years.”_ _

__“And now…” Sherlock huffed._ _

__“And now you’re going to listen,” the woman looked down at the bomb. Sherlock could see she was struggling with something and he was about to speak when she started too. “My parents and I were visiting for the first time sense the night it happened. What happened that night was my grandmother was hit by a drunk driver. They didn’t know if she was going to make but hope said she would. She over come so much in her life that I wanted to be like her but after that night something changed. It was like she never wanted anything to do with us. I never knew why until years later when I learned that the accident was no accident. Someone was trying to kill her but instead they tore everything out of her life all together._ _

__“Years later hope restored and we were going to see her for a visit. I couldn’t tell you how happy I was. We headed to the elevator but I’d forgotten something in the car so I told my parents I’d meet them upstairs. When I walked outside suddenly the building exploded.” She slowly looked up and met Sherlock’s gaze. “My family was taken from me all because of you,” she snapped and pointed at Moriarty, “And because of you.”_ _

__“Your grandmother, Ira was it, was a fascinating woman, Abby,” Moriarty murmured softly. “She used to work for the CIA so it was no wonder she was almost killed. When she lost her sight she was of no use to anyone so they let her be but not before threatening her life to not tell anyone. That’s why she cut your family out of her life. Not because anything you did but because she had to in order to protect you.”_ _

__Abby walked over to the glass and stared at Moriarty. “You spoke with her?”_ _

__“Indeed, I did,” Moriarty said softly. “She told me all sorts of things but the most important thing was that I sent her granddaughter a golden heart locket necklace with a picture of her inside of it.”_ _

__Abby reached under her shirt and pulled out the necklace from underneath it. “It came in the mail a few days after the funeral.”_ _

__“I know,” Moriarty replied softly. “She was a trooper. One I hated to use in my game but she insisted after her son never returned her calls. She thought he hated her. What we didn’t know was that same day you were coming for a surprise visit was the day she was giving her up her life.”_ _

__“So, she ended?” Abby asked._ _

__“It was her choice. She knew what I was doing and wanted to make Sherlock look like an unfeeling machine in which case he was,” Moriarty said, looking from her to Sherlock._ _

__“You really expect her to believe any of this?” John spat out._ _

__“It’s the truth,” Moriarty huffed._ _

__“He’s right,” Sherlock confirmed. “Moriarty is telling the truth.”_ _

__“Thanks, Sherlock,” Moriarty said happily._ _

__Abby turned to Sherlock and said, “You know there is one more puzzle, Mr. Holmes.”_ _

__“What’s the puzzle?” Sherlock asked curiously._ _

__“This puzzle is a little tricky, one that most have tried to figure out but couldn’t. Tell me something, what should we deduce about your heart?” Abby inquired._ _

__Sherlock stared at her for a moment. “I don’t understand.”_ _

__“You told me that caring for someone is a sign of weakness but yet you cared that your brother and about Inspector Lestrade enough to save them. I could see it in your eyes, Mr. Holmes, that you were relieved when you knew they would be safe. So, tell me. What should we deduce about your heart if Doctor Watson should die?”_ _

__Sherlock looked from her to John. His heart felt heavy and his brain raced even though he couldn’t think straight. What would he do without John in his life? It was to unbearable to even waste time on. Yet, he was afraid of John getting hurt or seeing him in that bomb vest standing next the pool again. It was a recurring nightmare that kept him up most nights. The thought of losing his best friend was something so horrible he felt sick just thinking about it. No, he had to clear his mind of that. “I couldn’t,” he mumbled._ _

__“What was that, Mr. Holmes?” Abby asked._ _

__“I couldn’t bear the thought if something should happen to him because of me,” Sherlock snapped. “He doesn’t deserve it.”_ _

__“Sherlock,” John murmured, “Look at me, Sherlock.” When Sherlock was looking at him John said, “I know what I signed on for. You are a right git most days that I want to strangle but I’d never trade the time I’ve had with you for anything.” John was struggle with his words and fighting back his tears. It wasn’t easy to say, not with Moriarty in the same room with them but he knew Sherlock needed to hear it. “Being your friend will always be the best thing that ever happened to me.”_ _

__Sherlock walked up to the glass and placed his hand onto it. John mirrored his action and placed his hand on the glass where Sherlock was pressing his. “Just the two of us against the world,” Sherlock said softly. John smiled and Sherlock couldn’t help but smile back. If they were going to die at least they would be together._ _

__“Here is your final puzzle, Mr. Holmes.” Sherlock turned around and saw that she was holding up a blue tablet pill, one in each hand. “A game of chess,” she murmured. “What will it be?”_ _

__Sherlock looked back at John and saw the horror on his face. He knew what this meant to his friend. John killed a man for him so he would live but now there was nothing John could do to stop Sherlock from taking the pill. He looked back at her and took a step forward._ _

__“Sherlock, don’t,” John said sternly._ _

__“Well, this just got more interesting,” Moriarty giggled._ _

__“Shut it,” John snapped at him._ _

__Sherlock’s focus was on Abby’s face. There was no noticeable tell on her face of which pill would be poisoned and which one wouldn’t be. “This is rather an old game. Couldn’t you have figured out something new to do?”_ _

__“I have,” she replied, looking down at the bomb. “If you win I’ll die but if you lose we all do. However, not in the sense you might think. I’ll blow up Moriarty and take John with me. No one will be able to find us. I’ll make sure on that.”_ _

__Sherlock looked at the two pills and then back at John. His face spoke volumes of what he knew the doctor want to say yet couldn’t. He looked back at Abby and tried to think but the drug he was forced to take before was still in his system. It was a little difficult to think. Come on, Sherlock, what happened last time? Think! He heard Mycroft’s voice in his mind say and just like that the answer was clear. With a smile on his face Sherlock stepped forward and bent down to examine the bomb. He looked up at her and said, “I’ll take the bomb.”_ _

__“Sherlock, no,” John said in a state of panic. “Are you mad?”_ _

__“No, he’s brilliant,” Moriarty mused. “Why didn’t I see it?”_ _

__Sherlock stood and knew he had won. “Just like the first case, John. The pills were real but the gun was fake, just like this bomb.”_ _

__“Once again, Mr. Holmes, you are right. However…” she pulled out a gun from her behind her back and placed it to her head. In one quick move Sherlock lunged forward and pulled her arm away as the gun went off. “NO!” Abby screamed. Sherlock wrestled the gun out of her hand and held onto her. She tried to struggle but he was much stronger than her. “No, let me go. I want to die.”_ _

__Suddenly the door opened and in rushed several different officers with Lestrade and Mycroft right behind them. Sherlock continued to hold onto her as they opened the glass door to let John and Moriarty out. One of the officers used a key to unlock them and another took Moriarty away._ _

__John walked up to Sherlock but his focus was on Abby. “Why do you want to die?”_ _

__Abby stopped struggling enough to focus on John. Her eyes were blood shot; she looked old for her age, even acting like it, too. John knew no one should go through as much hell as this young woman had. He couldn’t understand her urge to want to die and wanted to hear from her why._ _

__“What does it matter to you, Doctor Watson?” Abby grumbled. “I have no one. My family was taken from me because of a stupid game of puzzles.” She tried to crane her neck so she could see Sherlock. “I hope this helped to show you how fragile one’s heart can be when choosing if you want to participate because you always have the choice to walk away.”_ _

__“What if you’re forced to play the game?” Sherlock asked curiously._ _

__“Let’s see,” Abby began, “What should we deduce about your heart?”_ _

__“That I…I care,” Sherlock stammered._ _

__“That’s all I wanted to hear,” Abby said softly. “The game is won, Mr. Holmes. Congregations are in order. You’re a hero.”_ _

__Sherlock shook his head. “I’m no hero,” Sherlock retorted, letting her go. He walked out of the room and headed outside. There was a light rain falling forcing down his curls. John was on his heels within seconds._ _

__“Where are you going, Sherlock?” When Sherlock kept walking John grabbed onto his arm and forced him to turn and meet his gaze. “Dammit, Sherlock, what’s going on in that head of yours?”_ _

__“I’m a monster, John!” Sherlock shouted. “I never cared about anyone of those people getting hurt or dying. Everyone I’ve helped I just think of them as puzzles. That’s all they are to me. But, you, Mycroft and Lestrade matter to me. I would have gladly of died to protect you.”_ _

__“I know that, Sherlock,” John said._ _

__“Then why don’t I care? Like you? You tell me I should care and yet I don’t but the moment you’re life is on the line I’ll do anything to save you!” Sherlock was grabbed a hand full of his hair and started pulling. “What’s wrong with me?”_ _

__John grabbed onto Sherlock’s wrists and said, “Sherlock, there’s nothing wrong with you. Stop this. Listen to me you bloody git.” John managed to gain Sherlock attention. He pulled Sherlock’s hands away from his own hair and held onto his wrists so he couldn’t get away. “Sherlock, there is nothing wrong with you no matter what anyone says. You do what you do and you’re brilliant at it. When you told me caring didn’t help save lives it made me angry at first but I knew deep down you had a valid point. It doesn’t. It only clouds the mind.”_ _

__“But, you care,” Sherlock whispered._ _

__“Sherlock, for fuck sake, I’m a doctor. I’m supposed to care.” That made Sherlock smile which made John smile. “Look, Sherlock, there is a saying that you should hear. I know you haven’t heard it before but when I say it I want you to believe it, okay?” Sherlock nodded. “You’re only human, Sherlock. What you’ve been through tonight and in your life, the feelings and emotions it’s what makes you like me. You care. I know you do but in your own way. Don’t let this get the better of you and if you feel like you’re starting to slip away just remember that I’m here and I always will be.”_ _

__Sherlock pulled John against them, hugging him, and throwing John completely off guard. “Thank you, John.”_ _

__“You’re welcome, Sherlock,” John replied. They pulled away from each other when they heard someone clearing their throat. They turned to see Lestrade and Mycroft._ _

__“It seems the police car that was escorting Mr. Moriarty and Ms. Turner has vanished,” Mycroft stated. He was leaning on his umbrella with a lazy expression on his face._ _

__“You mean they got away,” John hissed. “This is ridiculous.”_ _

__“Don’t worry, John. We’ll find them,” Lestrade insured. “Oh, and we will be needing statements from both of you with what happened in the room before we entered.”_ _

__John nodded. “Yeah, can we do that tomorrow?”_ _

__Lestrade looked from John to Sherlock who didn’t look so good. “Everything alright, Sherlock?” Sherlock managed to nod thinking back to what he learned about Lestrade's ex-wife. He debated about saying anything but in the end he knew it could wait until tomorrow. Lestrade frowned but said, "Good. I'll see you gents tomorrow." Lestrade turned and walked away._ _

__John looked to Mycroft and asked, “Was there something else you needed, Mycroft?”_ _

__Mycroft could tell from the way Sherlock was staring at him that something was amiss but he didn’t want to bring it up. No, he would be by the flat and talk to Sherlock when John wasn’t around. “It can wait until a later time.” Mycroft waved to the black car that was parked just outside the yellow police tape. “Take my car back to Baker Street and try to get some rest.”_ _

__John nodded and turned to Sherlock who seemed to only half listening. “Come on, Sherlock, let’s go home.”_ _

__Sherlock nodded and followed John to the car. The driver opened the back door while John helped Sherlock get in and then slid in beside him in the back seat. The driver got in and pulled away. John kept stealing glances over at Sherlock hoping he would be alright._ _

__“You don’t have to worry so much, John,” Sherlock murmured._ _

__“I know but it’s part of a doctor’s title to worry,” John replied._ _

__“Is is also part of the title for a doctor to sit so close?” Sherlock asked._ _

__“No, that’s part of being a friend title,” John said with a smile. Sherlock smiled back and for the rest of the ride they remained silent until the car came to a stop in front of 221B Baker Street. “Home sweet home,” John muttered. They got out of the car and walked inside. It was quiet and John wondered if perhaps Mycroft sent Mrs. Hudson to her sister’s for the weekend. That seemed like the best thing to him. Sherlock didn’t need her fussing over him because he’d be doing enough for the both of them._ _

__Right away Sherlock walked over to his chair and sat down without taking off his coat or scarf. John wasn’t for sure what to do other than the one thing he would always do. “Tea?” he asked. Sherlock hummed, giving John his approval. John was fast at work, feeling the kettle and placing it on the burner to make them tea. When it was done John made two cuts and walked over, handing Sherlock’s his before sitting down in his own chair._ _

__“Thank you, John,” Sherlock said, taking a sip of his tea._ _

__John smiled at him. “You’re welcome, Sherlock.”_ _

__Before long Sherlock was up and playing his violin while John picked up one of his mystery novels and started to read, listening to the sounds of Sherlock playing something he’d never heard before. It was a slow song and it seemed sad. John wanted to ask Sherlock what the song was but before he knew it he was fast asleep in his chair._ _

__When Sherlock stopped playing he looked over at John to see that his friend was sound asleep. So, Sherlock took off his coat and placed it over John’s sleeping form. He brushed some of John hair out of his face and said softly, “I’d be lost without my blogger.” A smile formed on John’s face and it made Sherlock smile in return. He stood and returned to playing his violin well into the night._ _

**Author's Note:**

> I hoped you enjoyed this. I may write more but I'm not 100% sure on that yet. It depends if you liked this or not. Please, let me know if you did like it and maybe I'll write more. Thank you so much for reading.


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